


Judicial Review

by pepperland



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Conflict Resolution, Father-Son Relationship, Law Enforcement, Other, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-16
Updated: 2018-10-04
Packaged: 2019-05-24 05:58:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14948870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pepperland/pseuds/pepperland
Summary: Set two months after the good/pacifist ending where everyone lives and you kill almost little to no humans. As far as I know, to get this ending, Connor still kills the two guards in the elevator. I could be wrong, but that's what this is based off. Connor is the first android to ever be put on trial in court and tried with human rights.I just wanted to write Hank taking care of his robot son, that's all.





	1. Chapter 1

It took just over two months of delegations, testimonials, and general "clean up" to draw up the first draft of the "Ethical Treatment of Androids" act. An umbrella term really, as it moreso spelled out the actual rights and rules an android was expected to abide by, now that they were considered law-holding members of the populace. 

It wasn't pretty, either. Connor was trained to spot flaws and weaknesses that could gain him the upper-hand when necessary, and the document was no different; the fact that the highest penalty a human could face for assaulting an android was along the same lines of animal cruelty didn't sit right in his artificial stomach, but it was a start. 

He stayed with Lieutenant Anderson during the process, mostly out of convenience. There was a whole two week period they were both asked questions about working with the other, and their general impressions of each other during their Deviant investigation. He understood it was beneficial to their cause, to show how androids and humans could work side-by-side and cooperate well. Still, hearing the Lieutenant praise his abilities on the field, even calling him 'partner' again, made the android feel something akin to warmth. He even smiled.

The way Hank looked at him from the sidelines when explaining how he couldn’t have come to sentience without the Lieutenant's human influence made him smile a little, too. 

Even after their part in the litigation was finished, Hank never asked Connor to leave. Connor never offered to go. Roommates, he deduced after the first month. Hank even set him up a small space in the spare room with a dresser and bed, despite knowing androids don't necessarily 'sleep' the way humans did, and Connor owned maybe three outfits in total. It felt…oddly belonging. Domestic. He liked it.

That morning, Hank sat at the kitchen table, eating the plate of eggs Connor prepared (because he wanted to, not because he had to) while reading over the final product of the Act. There was silence, occasional huffs of annoyance, white eyebrows rising and dipping to convey inflection. Finally, papers were set on the tabletop, Hank motioning to them with his fingers.

"You know some of that is shit, right?" 

"While we are aware the circumstances seem heavily weighed to protect already existing human rights, it's certainly a start. I was also expecting it, truthfully. Humans are scared of change like this, they want to make sure nothing for them will be taken away before giving something willingly. I consider it…a work in progress."

"Connor, for not being human, you sure as shit get how fucked up we are."

"No species is perfect. Except, perhaps, for the crocodile or alligator. They have remained virtually unchanged throughout evolution, only changing in size to accommodate humans and their invasive nature."

After he swallowed a mouthful of eggs, the Lieutenant gave a short, breathy laugh, "You are one weird dude, Connor."

"Thank you, Lieutenant."

A solid set of three knocks rang through the home then, causing both officers to cast eyes toward the front door. Sumo barked in response, but remained on his plush dog bed.

"Were you expecting anyone?"

"No. Not this early." 

Connor made for the door, opening it only to find two armed agents on the other side. CyberLife may have been a part of his past he wanted to keep there, but Connor would never forget the insignia, nor how they dressed their agents. 

"rk800, otherwise known as ‘Connor’, you are being detained for the murder of two CyberLyfe personnel on the night of the Android Incident."

"What?" Hank and Connor both spoke in unison. He knew what the Incident is, who doesn’t? That was not in question.

Behind the two agents, Gavin of all people, pushed his way between them to become front view, "Y’see, with this new Act of yours, Androids can now be held accountable and tried by their peers for crimes instead of just being detained and deactivated. Even face jail time. Or even! The death penalty. Just like us humans do, eh? You wanted rights so bad, well you got ‘em."

Hank came up by then, immediately starting to bicker with Gavin. Connor paid it no mind, instead running through internal memory to try and recall the deaths at hand. Markus tried so hard to keep the revolution peaceful, so few humans were killed but…yes, he remembered then. 

The two guards escorting him to be decommissioned. Escorting him to be killed. After becoming deviant, and tricking CyberLife into letting him back in the facility, only to convert more of his kind. 

"Lieutenant," Hank was arguing between Gavin and the two agents, but stopped at Connor’s voice, "It’s fine. He’s right, we don’t need to make a scene."

"Connor, c’mon, this is bullshit, they couldn’t even wait a da-?"

"It’s ok, Hank." the use of his partner’s first name must have triggered something, for he watched the man’s face soften some, before scrunching up again in annoyance. 

"Fine, but don’t say a fuckin’ word until I get there, you hear me? I’m gonna follow you,"

"That’s unnecessary, CyberLife has provided an attorney for him-" the agent trying to speak was abruptly interrupted.

"Fuck you and fuck CryberLife, I’m the kid’s partner. If you think I’m not comin’ along, yer stupider than you look."

Connor didn’t normally laugh, found these new emotions still troublesome and foreign at times, but that was the first time he genuinely had to hold back a chuckle. Instead, he just smiled in the lieutenant’s direction, who replied with a very quick and sly wink. 

"Turn around, Android." Gavin produced a pair of handcuffs. 

"Is that really necessary, you prick? He’s goin’ with you."

Protectiveness. Hank was feeling protective of him. Connor’s internal processing registered the defensive nature before now, but for some reason, after everything that happened, it felt…more important. More real. It _felt_ at all. 

Connor turned around as instructed, hands behind his back, "No worries, Lieutenant, just protocol, right? I won’t speak until you are present."

"Good, kid. Good. I won’t be far behind."

Knowing Hank meant exactly what he said, and that Connor would indeed have him as back-up, made getting into the back of a police car instead of the passenger seat a little easier to swallow.


	2. Chapter 2

When he arrived at the station in handcuffs, Captain Fowler was rather loud in his inquiry, which puzzled Connor for mutliple reasons. He was the captain, why was he not informed of this arrest beforehand? Perhaps Gavin felt a personal interest in this, took responsibility from CyberLife without any outside input. Vindictive. There was also, well...the way he started barking at the CyberLife officials brought to detain him gave the impression that he was...mad. Personal. _”You don’t get to just take one of mine without consul-”_

Huh. _One of mine._

Being an android, Connor was accustomed to being _owned_ by somebody. But this was entirely different. When he’s put in holding, he must have been smiling, because Gavin made sure to complain about it.

"What’s got you so happy, plastic?"

"Nothing that you would understand."

A sneer pulled the man’s lips, knocking on the glass hard enough to make the android step back. 

"Fuckin’ androids." were his parting words. 

There was a man sleeping in the cell across from him, someone he recognized from previous outings with Hank. A homeless man, he recalled, sometimes breaking the law just to have a warm place to sleep for the night. Odd, just a few months ago he would have found such behavior perplexing. Now, he wondered if the softness he felt in looking at the middle-aged man sleep is what humans called empathy. 

He stood for awhile. Then sat. Then stood again. Was he nervous? His “skin” registered touch unlike how human’s did, but it certainly felt...tickled. Scratchy. When he considered possibly being put in a larger jail facility, his throat felt the same. Like he needed to cough, a strictly human action to dispel bacteria that he cannot house. His skin crawled. He was nervous. 

What of the men he killed? For the first time since the incident, Connor wondered if they had families. Where they were from. Were they decent people? He could very well search for records in his database, it would take just a few seconds but...he hesitated. He didn't want to. Guilt. He was guilty.

It wasn’t until an hour and sixteen minutes later when Hank returned with Captain Fowler, and only one of the CyberLife agents from earlier that morning. 

"We’ve come to an agreement," Fowler spoke with a rather pleased looking Hank beside him. The CyberLife agent looked incredibly _displeased._ Something told him the agreement was more along the lines of Fowler telling them how things will happen, and everyone else having to live with it. 

"There are no proper jail facilities set up for androids considering none have ever been tried before. You’re the first, Connor, so we’re playing a lot of this by ear. Putting you in a human lock up will just cause unnecessary conflict."

"Unnecessary conflict?" Connor asked.

"As in a lot’a humans still fuckin’ hate androids, and we want you alive for the trial, kid."

"Oh. I see." Fear. He swallowed, despite not needing to. His skin crawled again. 

"You’re gonna be under house arrest and your tracker put back in until the trial. You're suspended until further notice, so you have to surrender your gun. You’re not to leave Lieutenant Anderson’s premises, not even by a yard, without police escort, and all questioning before your trial will happen here, you got it?"

Connor gave a nod behind the glass, trying not to think about if this was the same cell the deviant bashed his own skull in, "Understood, Captain."

"Sorry, Connor, it’s the best I could do. These CyberLife assholes want everything by the book." Fowler spoke as if one of the company’s representatives wasn’t standing directly beside him. 

Said Agent rolled his eyes before turning to Hank, "Lieutenant, we need you to sign some forms before we can release the android in your custody."

They both retreated toward Hank’s desk, leaving Fowler behind. When he spoke again, it was quieter, obviously meant for just Connor to hear even though they were relatively alone as it was. 

"This is all just some big publicity stunt, Connor. They want a scapegoat. The department’s got your back, we’ll figure this out. Alright?"

"Thank you, Captain. For...for not allowing them to..." the idea of being literally ripped apart in prison by humans who still felt it was his fault they ended up there made his hands start to fidget. He couldn’t even finish the sentence.

"Don’t mention it, kid. You've never been violent or untrustworthy before this, they don't get to just drop you in a human prison and forget about it. Don’t talk unless one of us is around, stick to your story, and this’all be over soon. They’re sending you a lawyer, and we’ll start prepping for your trial first thing tomorrow."

Silence, then. Maybe it should have been awkward but Connor was still getting used to that emotion, he didn’t feel it in the same capacity. Or maybe it was a comfortable silence, sharing a glance with Captain Fowler, who gently knocked a few times on the glass before excusing himself. 

He didn’t feel quiet so alone standing in his cell, then.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this one is shorter. i honestly didn't even consider a lot of factors in this story overall until y'all commented on some stuff, so i appreciate it. thanks so much for the support. ps sorry if y'all wanted to see connor in jail, but tbh they would have torn him apart and i just want him to be safe with his cop dad and therapy dog.


	3. Chapter 3

To be fair, the lawyer he was appointed was actually a very nice woman. She respected him enough to shake his hand and look him in the eyes, which, even after android rights have passed, many humans found tedious to do. 

Tasha, he recalled, able to pull up the woman’s schooling and win record in his database, where he was more than pleased with the results. She was certainly qualified to handle his case with respect and diligence, which she exemplified during the week of training leading up to the actual trial. No, it wasn’t Tasha that Connor found himself worried over. 

Nervousness. Usually accompanied with an irregular heartbeat, sweaty palms. Anxiety. Connor does not sweat, his palms remained their core temperature, and yet the desire to find his quarter to run it through his fingers when sitting in the witness stand was almost undeniable.

"Connor?"

He blinked. The almost full courtroom was watching him in wait, with Tasha standing to his left, confusion on her features.

He had missed a question.

"Can you repeat that, please?"

"You were explaining that pretty much the only reason CyberLife let you back on the premises was because you were going to be decommissioned. Is that right?"

"That was the initial intent, yes. General security was unaware I had deviated when I returned, they merely assumed I was following orders after failing my mission in finding Jericho and apprehending Markus. I was to be permanently shut down and disassembled, so CyberLife could analyze my components, and figure out why I had failed."

"So, essentially, these men were leading you to be killed?"

"Yes."

"And how did that make you feel?"

"...scared. I felt...scared."

Connor had been relatively good with questioning in practice, knew what he needed to say to present his point. He could memorize entire books of text if he had to, and the line of questioning was no different. But now he paused. If just for a moment. LED blinked yellow, then red momentarily, pulling the memory to the forefront of his mind.

"Before fully deviating, I was...connected with another Android briefly as I tried to obtain information from him. He shot himself in the head before I could collect much, but...the way I felt in that moment when he died was how I felt walking into CyberLife." he wished for his quarter yet again in that instance, just to give his hands something to do. Never before did he have to deal with being unable to keep them still. He decided to simply weave fingers together in his lap.

"I knew that if I did not accomplish my task, that it would all be over. I would die, the revolution would die, and we would never be free. I would have failed Markus. I would have failed everyone. I...still find emotions hard to interpret, but..." he never dealt with them before, found their intricacies confusing and messy at times. Hank told him they just complicated things, and now he could see why. Fear. Anger. Sadness. It felt like trying to describe color to someone blind. While he was no poet, he was smart. Intellectual. Might as well describe like a patient would to a doctor.

"My hands were shaking, like they are trying to do now. I have no need to breathe but am capable of doing so; each step into the building made the action harder and harder to control. What is considered my stomach is only for holding and processing Thirium, and yet it felt as though it was clenching in my chest. Like I would be sick, and vomit. My mouth only produces fluids when processing data, but it felt drier than it had ever been. For the first time in my life, I thought about trying a glass of water to make it go away. I then began thinking what would happen to me after I died, though statistically I knew the answer to it already; nothing. A void. My memory would not be reuploaded, my body would be torn apart, and I would never experience consciousness again. That realization then caused me to commit myself to my mission even more. My new mission to free our kind. I steadied myself, entered the elevator, and then I acted."

"Acted, meaning...”

“I shot the two guards escorting me, and infiltrated the basement."

"Thank you, Connor. No further questions." 

His lawyer dismissed herself, sitting back down. CyberLife’s representative was next to question, implementing the ‘quiet’ tactic at first. He didn’t move immediately after being handed the witness, merely sat at the desk going through papers like he wasn’t already completely familiar with what was in them.

"So, you’re saying this was self-defense, right Connor?"

"If I did not act, the end result would be my death."

"Did you feel threatened by those two guards directly?"

"No, but I knew the-"

"Did they threaten you in the elevator?"

"No, but I knew the-"

"I don’t see how your ‘fight or flight’ response program kicked in when these two men were just doing their job."

"You won’t let me finish," Irritation. He felt irritation rise in him, the man hadn’t even stood from the opposing desk, yet. He won’t even look up at him... _I am alive. Look at me._

"Regardless of their overall destination, it doesn’t account for you murdering those two men without any provocation!"

"Objection! Where is the question here?"

The judge lowered small circle spectacles to glance at the other, "Sustained, you’ve made your point counselor."

"I will rephrase. Why did you murder those two, and not the ones in charge of your actual decommission?"

"By that time, it would have been too late. If I arrived to the floor they intended to take me to, I would have never come out."

"And you knew that with certainty?"

"Yes."

"Funny, I didn’t know androids could feel emotions AND predict the future now, too!"

"Objection!"

"Withdrawn. Nothing further, your honor."

Connor flinched, for some reason, as the gavel fell hard on the judge’s desk to dismiss the room for the day. He stayed in the seat for a moment, recalling what happened, how the jury looked during his questioning. This was irony, wasn’t it? Being judged by your peers, when your "peers" were nothing like you. They may have basic rights now, but it was still too early to demand they be legally allowed to sit in a jury-box. These humans couldn’t truly relate to how desperate that day had been. How final it all seemed to be. He had no choice. Don’t they understand that? He had no choice.

"Kid?" he blinked. Hank appeared in front of the witness stand, "C’mon, you did good. Let’s go."

A hand is held out for him, ushering Connor to his feet and forward. He registered Hank’s palm falling against his shoulder, arm around him as he lead them both through the crowd surrounding the courthouse and barking at anyone who came too close. Without thinking long about the action, Connor leaned closer to the Lieutenant’s side, ducking his head some to shield his face from everyone else. Hank smelled like cologne and whiskey. Its familiarity brought him comfort he was unaware of before.

He may very well lose this smell, outcome depending. His stomach did that clenching thing again. Not an error in his program, but fear. He doesn’t want to leave Hank. He doesn’t want to die. He only did it because he had to.

"You ok, son?" they’re in the car the next time Connor blinked, driving away from the courthouse. 

"Yes, Lieutenant."

"Cut the crap, no you’re not. You look terrified. Don’t worry yet, you did good in questioning and there’s still another witness account; mine. And I won’t let those pricks touch you, alright?"

"...Alright."

"I mean it. I got your back, Connor. I do."

"I know you do...Thank you, Hank." another smile. Unforced, real. Genuine. When Hank saw it, he placed a hand to Connor’s shoulder, giving it a clap. 

"Just got used to havin’ a partner, they must be outta their fuckin’ minds if they think I’m lettin’ him go."

When they get home, Connor makes pancakes for dinner. Breakfast is the one thing he can't seem to burn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> can you tell i watch too much law and order svu???? (/-_-)/


	4. Chapter 4

Connor had never been able to accurately assess time before he became aware of dying. Before it was just a construct to give humans order. But sentience came with prices, and one of those just so happened to be hating the second-hand on a clock that ticked away faster than he had anticipated. He could have sworn it moved quicker now than before that night on the docks. 

He had a day of no court appearances before more questioning and testimonials were to pick-up again; twenty-four hours. Well, technically, less than that, as it passed to the mid-afternoon where Connor had done little more than sit on Lieutenant Anderson's couch and pet a drooling dog in his lap. 

_Tick. Tick. Tick._ Three seconds less than before. 

A knock at the door drew the android from his thoughts, or lack thereof. Sumo barked in response, hopping off of the couch only to pad over toward the door and sniff at the base of it. It wouldn’t be Hank, as he had a key, and never needed to knock to enter his own home. Connor was expecting something awful, someone professional. Perhaps another lawyer? Reporters? His thirium regulator pumped a little faster. Dread. 

Protocol he found hard to kick at times came into play, making him move toward the front door to peer out the small peep-hole and survey who it was. 

Immediately he would unlatch the lock, swinging the old wood door open just as quickly.

“Markus.”

His senior RK model was on the other side, oddly lacking any company. It wasn’t often their leader was seen without North or some sort of protective escort. Connor even took a moment to glance to either of his sides, trying to confirm he was indeed the only person there.

“You’re supposed to be in the Capitol.” nationwide new laws needed a face and a public speaker. Markus, whether he liked it or not, was the face of their revolution. His presence there was the only reason he wasn’t originally on the dais for the witness stand at his case, though he provided supporting testimonial in Connor’s favor. 

“Press conference was pushed back. Seems the public is more concerned about the first ever Android court case rather than talking about the laws that brought it about.” a brow lowered toward him, though Markus looked unperturbed. He even sounded...playful? Connor found it hard to translate, but Hank often had a similar look when cracking ‘jokes’ at Connor’s expense.

“I’m...sorry,” he still found himself apologizing. He felt like he owed more than just one. Especially to Markus.

“Connor, it’s fine. Are you going to let me in?” 

Brown eyes blinked some, like a camera shutter, as he took a few seconds to analyze the question. It was Hank’s home, but the man told Connor he lived here too now, right? Even had his own room. To have a home...that meant he could invite people to it. Inside it. Warmth.

“Yes, yes of course.” his reply came quick, stepping aside to allow Markus entrance. Sumo was immediately greeted with a head scratch and a warm smile. 

Fingers fiddled with the lock when he spoke again, “I really didn’t mean for this to get as far up as you, Markus. I know how busy you are working for our people to keep bringing us forwa-”

The peacemaker sat on the couch, hand raised to stop Connor from continuing. 

“You didn’t ask for this. We knew change wasn’t going to be easy.”

Connor stood in the foyer, watching Markus for a moment before eyes found his shoes instead. Shame. He feels...shame. Out of all the new emotions he was sifting through like sand underwater, this one was the hardest to digest. And this was not the first time he felt it.

“I...” for someone who had the entire Dictionary in his data banks, in every known living langauge to boot, you would think Connor could find what he wanted to say. And yet, it took him a few tries to get anything to come out.

“You have done nothing but trust me since that night. The night I betrayed us and brought the attack on Jericho. I got so many of us killed because I was unable to think for myself. You trusted me to get into the tower. And you trusted me in all the delegations leading up to the final draft of the EtoA Act. You trust me now. Why? What have I done to earn that?”

The lack of hesitation from the other was what human’s would call astounding.

“Because you are my brother. You chose to be free with us, you _chose_ to break free and fight. We all made a choices, Connor. You aren’t the only one who had to make some tough ones that night.” 

There were agents, human police, that were unfortunate causalities the night on Jericho, though the legalities there were too messy to try and pinpoint each one. Connor knew only he was being tried because they could successfully prove what he’d done. 

Trying to compute Markus’ words only proved to confuse him more. Family...? Brother. _Brother..._

“You tried so hard to present us to the public as agreeable. Peaceful. I cannot help but feel like, because of what I did, it will hurt the overall percentage of humans who sympathize.”

“Because of what you did, we won. We would have never gotten the humans to listen without you. We wouldn’t be free.”

Silence crept between them. Uncomfortable. Then, finally -

“Are we, Markus?” Doubt. LED flashed yellow at his temple. 

“Sitting at the stand, while twelve humans of varying age, ethnicity, and bias, watched me and judged my capability to digest emotions which have only just become new to my programming...I could not accurately say I felt very _free._ I felt the opposite. I felt...like I did back at CyberLife. Like something on display. Merely a prototype to gain results. I am the first to be put on trial. I am...I am just to gain results.” 

He wasn’t aware his hands were shaking until Markus reached over to cover one of them. Blue and green gaze he found was sympathetic. Soft. The android understood very quickly why so many people were able to follow and believe in those eyes. 

“I was told by someone very wise that being human is making choices. Being judged on them is a part of that. If this happened two years ago, you wouldn’t even be standing here. This may not be ideal, but even without knowing the outcome, you’ve already made history.” 

Connor was both comforted, and unsettled all in the same sitting. He was unsure why. 

Markus retreated his hand, which Sumo took as the perfect opportunity to put his head on top of Connor’s now empty hands rested in his lap. He expected head pats, to which the android gave methodically. 

More silence. Without looking over at him, Connor could tell the senior rk model was watching him. Analyzing. 

“Something’s troubling you more than forgiveness.” 

The dog gave a soft, little whine. Connor’s hands stopped their movement.

“...you said you died once before. Do you fear doing it again?”

“Sometimes,” his answer was honest, Connor was unsure why he would have expected any less, “but to value life at all, so much that you’re scared of losing it, makes me think having it is worth it in the first place. Don’t you?”

How little he valued his own safety just six months ago was a solid testament to that. Before, just uploading his memory into an empty shell seemed ideal, no regard for himself, just the task at hand. Now that he has experienced free will, choice, emotions...overwhelming as they were at times, he couldn’t imagine going back. 

“You are an older version of my series and yet you are superior in almost all cognitive functions, Markus.” Connor’s attempt at a joke, a compliment. It was delivered with a soft smile, “I find that perplexing.”

Markus smiled back, reaching out to clasp a hand on Connor’s shoulder.

He could only stay for another half hour before having to return to his negotiations team, but they made a point to talk about something _other_ than the trial while they could. Aside from legal meetings, Connor couldn’t recall ever having a moment to just sit and talk with Markus like humans did. Catching up, they called it. It...felt nice. Normal. 

When Hank eventually wondered in, stumbling through the doorway before Connor tucked him into bed, he felt another emotion he’s been learning to appreciate. Optimism.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i can't write markus very well but I TRIED sorry y'all


	5. Chapter 5

“Lieutenant Anderson, have you been working with Connor long?” 

“Since last November.”

“And in this time, how often would you say you were around him?”

“Ah, constantly. Couldn’t get the kid to leave me alone, he followed me around like my dog.”

“So you would say you have a pretty good grasp on his character?”

“I mean, well...yea. I do now.”

“Elaborate.”

Hank gave a sigh at the stand, going over the coaching they were given before now in his head, and making sure what he was trying to say came out right. Maybe remembering not to curse so much, either. Connor wasn’t sure, but he waited in silence along with the rest of the courtroom, feeling...what was it? Anxiousness? It was hard to pinpoint. When he does eventually speak, Hank turned to face the jury more directly.

“Look, I was like you guys, ok? I didn’t get it, I fuckin’ hated androids. Just plastic to me. When they sent this prick to the precinct I thought, _“Great, babysitting a machine.”_ But...as time went on he became more and more like a real person. He had fears, he had habits. Quirks. Like this damn...quarter flipping thing, annoying as hell but he’s good at it. He spared a deviant who just wanted to be free. He even showed empathy. He had the choice to stop a perp, or save my life. A rule-following mindless droid would have let me fall off a roof in order to finish the mission, but he didn’t.”

He remembered that instance. How quickly his AI decided to save Hank rather than pursue the perpetrator. At the time, he was certain he only did it to get on Hank’s good side. Now, he knows better. He was attached to that man sitting on the stand. He was unaware when exactly that happened, but happen it did. For once, Connor doesn’t dissect it more than that. 

“So you’re saying he’s not inherently violent, but sympathetic?”

“He’s not violent unless the situation calls for it. He’s a good cop, defending yourself is part of the gig sometimes, but no. He’d never just outright hurt a human for no reason.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant. No further questions.”

You could see Hank tense up as soon as he was handed off to the next counselor, a defensive posture with arms crossed over his chest and back straight in the chair. 

“So you’re saying, in less than a year, you can accurately describe your partner’s response pattern?”

“I’m saying that he’s not a psycho human killer.” 

“But he did indeed murder two humans, correct?”

“You already know the fuckin’ answer.”

“Please, answer the question Lieutenant.”

A sigh; irritation. Hank rolled his eyes before speaking into the small microphone, “Yes.”

“So, he deviates, sneaks into a highly technical and advanced organization, and murders two of its guards out of...what, Lieutenant? He wasn’t being threatened directly in that elevator. Why did he do that instead of merely incapacitate them? He’s an android capable of processing a situation an infinite amount of times in less time than it takes for us to blink. Surely there was another option available to him? If you know him so well, tell me why your partner didn’t think of them?”

“He was scared! You heard him. Jesus, you never acted without thinking before?”

“Yes, but I’m a human.”

“So is he, goddamnit!” an outburst, loud, as Hank slammed a hand on the stand before him, “Part of him is, at least, you know what I mean. He’s got his own mind and he was fuckin’ scared of us killing him without batting an eyelash, we do that a lot. Cause did you forget? He killed, what? _Two_ humans? We killed _hundreds_ of them. Maybe thousands. In literal camps, for fucks sake! Why are no humans up here being put on trial for murdering unarmed protesters, huh? This isn’t about getting justice, this is about just proving we’re still on the top of the food chain.”

“Lieutenant, I-”

“No, that’s exactly what this is about! The kid did nothing wrong, you hear me? When I got roped into it with a gun to my head, he did _everything_ he could to make sure I lived. If he were an unstable cop-killer, he wouldn’t have fuckin’ cared.”

“Order, please, Lieutenant.” the gavel slammed once to keep Hank from geting more riled up. 

Cheeks were puffy, red. Heart rate elevated. Stress. Connor has never heard Hank speak in his defense so adamantly before...his throat felt tight. His eyes overflowed with water, and for a brief moment, the android thought he may _cry_.

When he cleared his throat, patting his chest with a closed fist, it must have been a minute or so later, as Hank is being dismissed from the stand, the jury dismissed to come to a verdict. They had the rest of the day to do so.

Whatever happened now, it was out of their hands. Hank, just like the day before, was the android’s shield from the outside world as they made their way back to the car. The drive home was quiet, though Connor found himself watching Hank more than the world careening by outside the window. Eventually, he caught on.

“What, kid? Do I got something on my face?”

“No, no. You look acceptable. I just...” not for the first time, but still a new enough experience to give the android pause, Connor is at a loss for words. He still isn’t sure how to explain how he feels without quoting words that were not his. 

“Thank you. For what you said today. I became...very emotional, knowing that you consider me equal to you.”

Hank’s response was a gruff noise, “Don’t go crying on me, Connor. That’s just cheesy.”

\---

While it was true that androids did not require sleep the same way humans did, they did enter a ‘cool-down’ mode for up to two hours per day to recharge as a whole. In human terms, it was like a power-saving mode on a phone. All processes in his software unnecessary to continue operating were turned off, only the biocomponents necessary for keeping his blue blood flowing stayed running; like the human brain stopping most processes other than breathing during sleep. It could be taken all at once, or in intervals over the course of a day. Since moving in with Hank, and having acquired his own bed, Connor had taken to ‘sleeping’ all at once for a few hours in the evenings despite this not being required daily. He liked forming new routines.

He was used to the sensation of going to bed like a human, or at least _becoming_ used to it. What he was not used to, however, were dreams. 

The night before the verdict, Connor found his core processor replaying memories during cool-down, but not like a movie. They came disjointed, colors changed, and he only seemed to focus on the moments considered traumatic. The sound of a gunshot ripping through the head of an android. The word Jericho. The barrel of a gun pointed right between his eyes. Thirium spurting like a sprinkler, the dull thud thud thud of a forehead smashing against police glass. Cold. _Paralyzing,_ crippling _cold. _Trying to find a way out. Androids didn't feel temperature, but he knows cold.__

__Anything considered a threat would normally cause his defensive protocols to kick in, but none of what threatened him then was real. He felt paralyzed, the part of his biocomponents still processing allowing him to understand they were just memories, but not enough functionality to actually pull himself from them._ _

__Fear. It was fear. He was scared._ _

___“Connor!”_ _ _

__That wasn’t a memory. That was real._ _

__“For fuck’s sake kid, _wake up!”_ _ _

__Well, he supposed Hank did owe him for that slap._ _

__Processors fire as his head is jerked to the side, Connor sitting up straight like a pin so fast Hank backtracked to stand and avoid being headbutted._ _

__LED swirled red, blinking rapidly along with wide eyes as visual receptors came back on. The scene of his room, and a frazzled Hank register through static._ _

__“Lieutenant.” Connor’s voice sounded oddly level, completely lacking that ‘just-woke-up’ rasp all human’s had. He wasn’t aware his hands were clutching the comforter until he looked down to see fingernails almost tearing the thread._ _

__“Jesus, you scared me half to death.”_ _

__He tried to assess the situation, but everything felt sluggish. Hank was here. Not in his room. Obviously having been asleep, judging by the dog boxers and wrinkled shirt. Something drew him to Connor’s room. Sumo stood by the doorway._ _

__“Was I making noise?”_ _

__“Fuck yea, you were. Weird noise, I thought it was Sumo whining to go out at first, but it got louder and then you were _talking._ At least…I don't know, I think you were. Made no god damn sense. I know you all have emotions and shit but I didn’t know you got _nightmares.”__ _

__A pause. If Connor had the same kind of blood cells and skin as humans, he would have paled considerably._ _

__“This…is a new discovery for me, as well.”_ _

__He was supposed to feel better now that he was awake, right? Why does he not feel better? In fact, it felt worse. He couldn’t see it, but his LED continually jumped from yellow to red, back and forth._ _

__“…Connor, you alright?”_ _

__“I…am not sure.” Hank has always been the easiest to remain honest with. The lieutenant never censored himself around Connor, he just tried to pay the same respect. This time, however, felt different. Exposing. As if presenting a vulnerable belly to a predator. He felt as if he were in danger when no threat was present._ _

__Hank moved closer again, taking a seat at the side of the futon he’d got from a yard sale._ _

__“You wanna talk about it?”_ _

__“…yes. But also, no. I…” a pause, Connor licked at his lips because they suddenly felt incredibly dry again, “I have been thinking a lot about…dying. If the outcome of this trial is… _less than_ favorable, two counts of second-degree murder of two humans right after my kind are given rights could come with a death sentence. It could set us backward, and all deaths involved would account for nothing. I-…Including mine.” _ _

__He’d been looking at his hands, noting the shaking lessened the more he spoke. Maybe there was something to that whole ‘therapy’ concept. When he looked back up to Hank, the man’s full attention was given in big, sad eyes. Sympathy._ _

__“I’m scared, Hank. I don’t…I don’t want to leave here. I don’t want to die.”_ _

__Hank’s response was almost immediate after he stopped speaking. Hands reached out to grab Connor at each shoulder, pulling him close for a hug. He tucked the android’s head under his chin, and when he spoke, his gruff tone was lower. Private. Just for Connor._ _

__“You’re not gonna die, son. I told you I got your back, and we’re gonna get you out of this, ok? You did real good up on that stand, and this is all new for everybody. You’re the first android they let even have a trial in a legal courtroom. You can’t make a prediction about this one, you just gotta hope for the best.”_ _

__Factually, there was no proof provided in Hank’s response that guaranteed Connor would come out of this unscathed. But he was right because of it; there was no guarantee he _wouldn’t_ , either. He couldn’t predict this one. That didn’t mean he should be expecting the worst. Both Hank and Markus were right; there was a first time for everything._ _

__Hank still held him. Stroking along his back like a parent consoled a sick child. Connor made no move to be released._ _

__“…this is nice, Lieutenant.”_ _

__“Don’t make it weird.”_ _

__A chuckle. That time, from Connor._ _

__“And kid? It’s only Lieutenant when we’re on the clock.”_ _

__The android found himself nuzzling closer, and arms raised to embrace his partner in return._ _

__“Thank you, Hank.”_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (/ *_* )/ hank is connor's dad now i'm sorry i don't make the rules


	6. Chapter 6

It ended up being dismiss-able. A mistrial. 

After all the worrying and preparing, Tasha was certainly very good at her job, and brought to the judge the very real fact that Connor had yet to be considered a person at the time of the alleged murders. It was something they were still fighting for at the time, and the entire reason Connor was down there in the first place. It meant, he could have very well been acting out another order, just not one CyberLife gave him. He could not be held accountable for actions that did not yet apply to him. 

He searched for the word of how the victory felt while sitting in the passenger seat of Hank's car.

Bittersweet. 

**bit·ter·sweet**  
ˈbidərˌswēt  
_adjective_  
_(of food, drink, or flavor) sweet with a bitter aftertaste._

Not going to jail was...nice. Very nice. Not being shut down permanently was also nice. At least, he thought it was. Until now, he was always under the very real notion that he would simply upload to another body if termination were imminent. He could simply download memories to the CyberLife server and return to work as normal the next day. But this time was different, as there were no servers to upload to. None universal, at least. He did not want to simply stow away in another body, another life. He liked _this one._ He wanted to stay in _this one._

And now he can.

But only because he would admit to still being a machine at the time. Or that he just simply didn't know better. Not with his own words, they weren't even required to return back to the courthouse after the loophole was found. But it was heavily implied. You didn't have to have a computer brain to know that. 

There was also the fact the court held those accountable by a trial of their peers. Seeing as how Connor's peers had been an entirely human jury, the unfairness of it all was blatant when pointed out to a judge. Their case was weak, Tasha had gone another route entirely, slamming as much of the book at the head judge as she could find. When you compare humans judging an android to age-old but never forgotten racial bias, it tended to turn most feet cold. That, coupled with his lack of rights at the time, made the judge weary of going forward. A mistrial was the final verdict. 

He should have been pleased. Shouldn't he?

"Can you quit it with the light show, kid?" Hanks voice, gruff and deep timbre, was enough to pull the android from his thoughts. Thoughts he could openly get lost in if he so chose, now. Thoughts he was allowed to have.

When he glanced over to the man behind the wheel, Hank was pointing to his own temple. 

"Ah. Sorry, Lieutenant." not for the first time, he wondered then if he should get rid of the LED there. Many deviated androids did so the second after the Awakening was a success. Connor, for reasons he could not properly digest just yet, was conflicted on the action. 

He knew what he was. He also knew what he was not. 

"C'mon, I thought you'd be happy about this." Hank gently swatted at Connor's shoulder. Something the RK unit picked up on being a friendly gesture in their time spent together. 

"Yes. Not going to jail is...good. I'm happy I can continue working with you." his answer was stilted. Filtered. 

"But you're not happy about why." 

Say what you would about Hank Anderson, but he was not made youngest Lieutenant on the force for no reason. The man was incredibly perceptive. 

Caught, Connor doesn't bother to hide it, "No. I don't like winning on a technicality. I don't like that...being a machine is what saved me," eyes dropped from the passing scenery outside the windows to his own hands that rested, folded in his lap, "Because I wasn't. Not then. My testimony was true; I was...scared, but determined. I was _awake_ and it was the first choice I made for myself. I _chose_ to go to the tower to help Markus. To help my people." He didn't always refer to other androids as his own kind, but he never did so on purpose. There was just always this terrible disconnect between himself and everyone else.

He was an android meant to hunt other androids. He was made just human enough to blend in, but still inhuman at the end of the day. Not enough like one or the other. Belonging in either place was never anything he worried about before he woke up. Now, he wanted nothing more than to have a place he _truly_ felt welcomed. Markus and Jericho didn't feel like the right place, which was why Connor had turned down an offer to be on his council and returned back to Detroit instead.

"I get it, kid. You wanted to win with righteous cause and all that, but life isn't always righteous," Hank kept his eyes on the road while he spoke, though occasionally would glance beside him to let Connor know he was paying attention, "They wanted to make an example of you, and they were going to no matter what you said. M'sorry, but it's the truth, we figured that out in trial when numbnuts wouldn't let you get a word-in edgewise on your own defense. Humans are shitty when they're scared, and you lot being capable of what you are makes them scared. I'd rather you win this way then you being a sacrificial lamb. Just take it for what it is, and be grateful we get to go home."

He made a mental sticky-note to research what 'numbnuts' meant, but later. 

Now, Connor focused on Hank's words. How he was speaking from the heart. His heart rate, tone of voice, visual ticks, all pointed to complete honesty. He was happy Connor was still around, and alive, regardless of how they were brought to the outcome. 

He'd said _home._ That sense of belonging came back, then. Like his thirium pump sped up _just_ a fraction, which caused his biocomponents to work a little faster. His chest felt warm, his fingers tingling. Maybe he should have already understood this from the moment he turned down Markus to be with his own kind, but Connor realized only then just _why_ he'd done it in the first place. At least, he let himself fully believe in such truth; He was already where he belonged; at the DPD, with Hank, doing a job he was not only programmed for but came to appreciate beyond said basic programming. It was thanks to the Lieutenant's influence he found such purpose in the first place, slowly but surely replacing the selfish purpose CyberLife had given him to start with. 

Happiness may be an incredibly new emotion to him, but he was much happier this way. He was certain of it. 

"...Thank you, Hank."

That seemed to be the right thing to say; Hank sat up a little straighter in his seat while offering Connor a sly-smile across the cab, "Don't mention it. We're stopping for some grub on the way, and if you give me shit about the caloric whatever, I'll toss you out."

Connor only smiled.

"Can I ask you a question, Hank?"

"You always do."

"What does 'numbnuts' mean? Is it literal, as in the gonads of a male are numb, or is i-"

"Jesus christ Connor, don't ever say 'gonads' again."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'M SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG. and i'm sorry it's garbage. i don't usually write in past-tense as you can probably tell. but i wanted to give y'all an ending. 
> 
> i'm working on a gavin-centric fic with some reed900 thrown in, lmk if y'all would like to see it. i plan to finish that one before posting it in parts because i hate making y'all wait. 
> 
> kudos, comments, all that jazz. thanks a bunch for your patience.


End file.
